Oddly enough, my first conversation with God (I call, for lack of it's true name) came as I began dating a non-believer. I recognized the voice, so I carried along,

She's onto something.
Think so?
Know so. She's onto something all of you should know.
How many of us do know?
Not nearly enough.
A great deal then, that I want nothing but all of her.
And think.. what to want, when you lose her?
I'd prefer not to ponder.

Our second came as any might expect. I took to the call,

Hey. Floating around still? How's the kids?
Humor is a fine coping mechanism.
Oh no, just the opposite.
I didn't believe I'd need to know. I didn't want to. You know?
I know.

The third came a year after,*

Is it too late to give my answer?
When is it ever too late for answers?
Never and always.
After it all, I really just don't know.
But I want to, and the world as my partner I will try to.
I don't think knowing is the point, you know?
I know. And it's splendid that you think so.
Now tell me, what is it you want for yourself?
You know, I don't know.
I thought so.

And right before the silence returned (as it always does), I could've swore I heard a whisper...

He's onto something.